Growing Up Dixon
by dickmouth
Summary: A collection of short one-shots about Daryl and Merle when they were growing up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I come from a family that has had it's fair share of illegal activities, drugs, abuse, etc. Aside from my baby brothers, who are still underage, I'm the only person in my immediate family who hasn't been in jail or rehab. The person I'm closest to in this world is my older sister, who, despite whatever run-ins with the law, or drug problems she may have had, has taken care of me and been there for me whenever I needed her. So, when I watched this show and grew more and more attached to Daryl and Merle, I understood why. Everything in recent episodes got me thinking. I was looking at facial expressions and over-analyzing reactions the Dixons had when talking about each other to different people. I must confess, I get pissed off when people go off about Merle. Yes, he's a racist drug using abusive asshole, but he's also Daryl's brother, and the way they talk about each other makes me feel like there's more going on in that redneck piece of shit than he lets people see. Even though my sister isn't a redneck racist, the way she is toward me reminds me of the way Merle reacts toward Daryl. So, I decided why not try to come up with little stories, going into their relationship more? I don't see Merle as a heartless dick. I see him as someone who doesn't care about much, but what he does care about, he'd give his life for, and I hope I'm not the only person who sees him like that.**

**This is just going to be a collection of random little stories. The chapters will not flow into each other, they're just going to be short little one-shots. I'm not sure how many there will be, and many of them will have nothing to do with anything ever mentioned in any TWD episodes. Just a warning. Thanks for giving this a shot**

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"Get off of me!"

Knuckles hit his jaw. It was a feeling he never got used to, but he endured it, waiting for the perfect moment to strike back, and he found it when the boy who was pinning him down looked up at something. Daryl swung his fist as hard as he could, hitting the older boy in the jaw and stunning him just enough for him to make his move to get out from under him. He pushed the boy onto his back and jumped on top of him, punching him again. He saw his own blood drip onto the boy's throat, but tried not to think about how bad he might be injured.

"There ya go, Daryl!" He looked up, making the same mistake his opponent had, and only managed to see Merle for a split second before a fist hit under his left eye. He fell back and was once again pinned down.

"You're fucking dead, Dixon." The boy began punching him in the stomach and Daryl cried out, trying to stop him. He gasped when the punching stop and the hands grasped his throat and began squeezing. He began kicking and looked for his brother.

"Don't look at me, boy, you got yourself into this, get yourself out." He shook his head. "Don't go givin' up or he's gonna kill you, Daryl. You don't wanna die, you better kick his ass."

"As if he could. He's more of a fucking pussy than you are." The boy said.

"I'll take what's left of you when he's done." Merle said calmly.

"Get ready, then, cause he's almost do-" Daryl gathered his strength and delivered one swift kick between the boy's legs, making him let go instantly. He rolled onto his side, gasping for air.

"You ain't got time for breathin', dickface! Get him!" Daryl put his whole body into another swing, knocking the boy back, then jumped on him. He held his breath and hit him over and over again, fearing that if he stopped, he'd be pinned again. He felt tears filling his eyes as he got lightheaded and he took a deep breath, hitting one more time before he felt his brother's arms wrap around his waist and lift him up. He kept swinging his legs, trying to kick the bloodied body on the ground.

"Let me go! Let me fucking go! I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

"Whoa, bud, we gotta get outta here or you're gonna get hauled in. Come on!" Merle put him down and grabbed his shirt collar when he tried to return to the boy. "No! C'mon!" He pulled Daryl, knocking him down, then lifted him up to his feet. The two of them ran, Daryl limping slightly. The pride hadn't set in. The only thing going through Daryl's head was anger. He was mad at his brother for pulling him away, but he followed him because he knew if he didn't, he'd get his ass kicked, and he'd been hit enough. Merle stopped running a couple minutes later and Daryl caught up to him, gasping for breath. "Lemme look at you." He grabbed Daryl's chin, making Daryl wince. "He got you good, didn't he?" Daryl turned his head away.

"I got him too."

"Yeah you did. You did good, kid. Fucked yourself, though. Dad sees this, he's gonna be pissed." Daryl looked up at him, fear in his eyes. If there was one thing he feared, it was his father's anger, and the man had made it clear that he was sick of his boys getting in fights. He said it made the family look bad, as if his drinking and drug use didn't do that on his own. Daryl's mind ran in circles as he followed Merle back home to the doublewide trailer they lived in.

"What do I do?" Merle looked at him. "Dad's gonna beat me." Merle shook his head.

"We'll keep you outta sight for a bit. Let you heal up before he sees you, then we'll tell him you fell in a ditch or somethin'."

"Not really a smart idea, is it, Merle?" They looked and saw their dad smoking a cigarette, sitting on the ground next to an old truck he'd been fixing up. Daryl instinctively moved behind his brother, who put his arm out to shield him. It didn't do any good. Their father slowly approached them and stood in front of Merle, staring him down. Merle lowered his eyes and put his head down. Their father shoved Merle aside roughly and grabbed Daryl by the chin, forcing him to look up. Daryl closed his eye and kept his mouth shut as his dad examined his face. "You gonna lie to me about this? Say you wasn't fighting?"

"No, sir."

"Merle was going to, wasn't he?" Daryl looked at Merle and his dad jerked his face back to where it was, making Daryl cry out. "Don't look at him, I'm the one talking to you."

"I was going to lie to you." Merle said. Daryl felt his heart drop, and kept his eyes on his father, knowing better than to disobey his father twice. His dad let go of his face and turned to Merle. They stared at each other for a minute before their dad looked back at Daryl.

"You were fighting." Daryl nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"I told you not to." Daryl nodded and his father was quiet. "You're in bad shape. I can't really punish you, can I? Might end up in the hospital, then I'd be the bad guy, wont I?" Daryl stared at him, unsure of what to say. "I don't want to have to hurt you. I don't even want to punish you, I want you to learn. And since I can't teach you the usual way, I'm gonna try something else." He turned to Merle, who kept a stoic expression. "I'm gonna punish Merle, Daryl." Daryl felt himself about to cry and Merle shook his head at him, warning him not to. He fought back the tears. "You're gonna go home. You're gonna take a shower and go to bed without dinner. When your brother gets home, I want you to remember why he's in the shape he's gonna be in. Because you didn't listen. And that's gonna be on you." Daryl nodded and watched as his father grabbed Merle's arm and took him toward the woods. He looked at Merle's hand, which gave a subtle thumbs up as he walked away. Daryl took a couple steps backward before turning around and heading to the trailer.

He shared a small room with Merle, which had one full sized bed. The fake wood panel walls were covered with a variety of different magazine clippings, many of which included nudity that Daryl probably shouldn't have been looking at, considering his young age, but it was normal for him. Their bathroom was tiny, with a toilet and a small tub. The only sink was in the kitchen. He went into the bathroom and carefully cleaned himself off, washing the blood out of his hair. The warm water stung, but he endured it and dried himself off before putting on a pair of clean boxers and getting into bed. It took two hours for his brother to return, and he kept his eyes on the wall he was facing, listening to his brother rustle around in the room behind him. He was scared to turn, and it was so hard to keep from crying that his body shook slightly. He heard Merle let out a barely audible moan as he slowly sat down and he sat up and turned to him. It was impossible to keep from crying when he saw his brother's face. He wouldn't be able to leave home for at least a few days. It wasn't out of the ordinary for the Dixon boys to be beat up, considering their short tempers, but there was no explaining the shape Merle was in. A wave of guilt and fear washed over Daryl and he wiped his swollen eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said, sniffing. Merle shook his head.

"No more fighting." Merle said. He sounded exhausted and Daryl nodded. "I shouldn't be letting you get in those situations. You're too young anyhow."

"Okay." Merle slowly reclined and closed his eyes, flinching.

"Go to sleep. We ain't talking about this anymore, it's over." Daryl put his head on the pillow again, wiping his eyes once more. "Anyone fucks with you again, you get me. That piece of shit from today tries to get back at you, don't fight him, just run. You're fast, you can get away from him."

"But I-"

"Don't fucking argue with me, Daryl. Why is it so fucking easy for you to do what I say when I tell you to do bad things, but when I steer you right, you fucking argue? _Listen_to me!" Daryl cowered and nodded.

"Okay, I'll run." He said timidly. Merle looked back at the ceiling and Daryl resisted the urge to wipe the blood off the side of his brother's face. Neither of them said another word, and eventually they both drifted off to sleep. They didn't discuss the situation again, and from that day on, Daryl knew better than to come home or ask for his brother's help if actually got into a fight. Many nights were spent away from home, healing up enough so he wouldn't get smacked around for disobeying his father and brother. If there was one thing he learned from that night, it was that his actions affected others, not just himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for the kind words about the first chapter. I'm really sorry it took so long to put up another chapter. I'm also sorry they're so short, but one-shots kinda always are. I'm gonna try to keep up with this. I've started so many little chapters between these two, and it's hard to make them into something meaningful. Needless to say, my heart is currently broken and this set of little stories might be very therapeutic for me.**

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He watched out the window with a gun in his hand. He felt his heart beating all the way into his throat, but kept as quiet as he could. The man stumbled slowly, running his body into the car parked near the door of the trailer.

"Hey!" The man stopped and turned to him. Daryl froze at the sight of him, but tried to remain confident. "Get the fuck out of here, alright? I don't know what you've got but you need to leave. Nobody here can help you." He heard the man moan as he walked to the window Daryl was looking out of. "Hey- Back the fuck up!" The man pounded his hands against the wall outside and Daryl felt his heart drop. The man's face was sunken in and gray. His eyes were clouded over, and stared at Daryl blankly as he tried biting his way through the window. Daryl pointed the gun at him and the phone rang. He locked the door and picked it up. "What?!"

"I'm on my way home." He looked back at the man, who was pounding on the window.

"Hey! Get the fuck back or I'll fucking shoot you!"

"Is someone there?"

"Merle?! What do you mean you're on your way home? You're locked up-"

"Daryl, kill anyone who comes near you, I'm about five miles away-"

"What the fuck do you mean kill- They're sick I'm not killing anyone-"

"They're not fucking sick, Daryl, they're zombies." Daryl closed his eyes and sat down on the tattered couch.

"Jesus, Merle, what are you on?"

"I'm not on anything. They're evacuating the entire city! They released everyone in lockdown and sent us home, we're on our own we have to get the fuck out of here." Daryl looked at the door as the man moved to it.

"I was watching the news, they said it was an epidemic-"

"It's not a fucking epidemic it's the god damned apocalypse. Pack the guns, food, clothes- everything. Kill whatever the fuck is outside, get the truck started, and be ready when I get there."

"What?"

"LISTEN! I swear to god, Daryl if you don't listen to me I will fucking kill you myself. You have everything- and I mean everything- packed when I get home or I'll fucking kill you." Daryl could tell his brother was scared, which was something he was in no way used to, especially since they'd been adults. "There's someone outside, you fucking shoot them, don't hesitate. They get near you, you're as good as dead."

"I gotta go." Before another word could be said, Merle hung up. Daryl put the phone down and stood up, staring at the door. He ran into his bedroom and grabbed a duffel bag, pulling Merle's decorative hunting knives off the wall and throwing them in. He went into the drawers and pulled out every weapon he could find, ending up with three handguns, along with ammo. After that, he took four shotguns out of the closet and threw them on the bed. He took out old backpacks and began stuffing them with clothes, focusing on underwear and socks. Once the clothes and weapons were packed, he ran to the kitchen and began filling trash bags up with whatever he had in the cupboards. He filled a cooler with ice and threw things from the fridge inside. He stood for a second, looking around and wondering what else to grab before running into the bathroom and emptying the medicine cabinets. He felt a shock go through his body that was so strong it hurt when the sound of a gunshot rang from outside. He ran to the window and saw his brother jump over the lifeless body of the man he'd previously been yelling at. Merle pounded on the door.

"Let me in!" Daryl ran to the front door and opened it. Merle burst through and didn't say a word before grabbing the packed bags that sat on the couch.

"Merle- Where'd you get the gun-"

"Move!" Merle yelled, throwing one of the bags at Daryl. He grabbed two more and ran out the door, throwing them into the back of Daryl's truck. Daryl followed, partially afraid of what his brother would do if he didn't get his ass in gear fast. It took less than five minutes for the two of them to load the most important belongings they owned into the truck, and a couple more for Merle to make another quick sweep of the trailer. Daryl mentally kicked himself for forgetting a few of the things Merle found and grabbed. "C'mon!" He followed his big brother outside and helped him load the rake and other gardening tools into the truck, following him as he grabbed a shovel and ran to the back of the trailer. He watched as Merle began digging a hole, confused as to what was happening.

"What are you digging for?" Merle took a gun from the back of his pants and handed it to Daryl.

"You see anyone- dead or alive- you gun 'em down. Don't hesitate. Watch my back." And he continued digging.

"Dead? Merle, this zombie bullshit has to end. I know you've been locked up for a while, and I'm glad you're back but you gotta get your head on straight-" Merle stood up and punched Daryl in the face, knocking him down. He got on top of the younger man and grabbed his throat. Daryl dropped the gun and grabbed Merle's wrist.

"Now's not the time to question me, do you understand? You're gonna listen, and you're gonna obey me. You're gonna do it blindly, because that's what you need to do right now to survive, okay, Derlene?" Daryl struggled, but Merle had always been bigger and stronger. "Answer me!" Merle yelled. Daryl stopped struggling, put his hands up in defeat, and nodded.

"Okay. Alright I'll listen." He said calmly. Merle let go quickly and continued digging as Daryl got back to his feet, grabbed the gun, and did as he was told, taking his eye of the horizon only to see Merle grab a gallon sized Ziplock bag full of pill bottles and blue tinted crystals out of the ground.

"We're done, let's go." Daryl followed him to the truck and they got in silently. Neither spoke for several miles as Merle drove, way over the speed limit, and Daryl stared out the window, in shock at the sight of dead bodies torn apart lining the streets. He kept himself calm by breathing hard and slow. The sound of it caught Merle's attention and he took his eyes from the road. "You did good." He looked at Merle, blinking fast to make sure no tears were forming. "Packing. You missed some shit, but for the most part, you got a lot of useful shit." Daryl nodded and looked away. Merle kept quiet for another minute before nodding. "We're gonna be alright." Daryl looked at him again. "We're gonna be fine, alright? We just gotta stick together. Take care of each other." Daryl stared at him, knowing him long enough to see beyond Merle's confidence to the fear in his eyes. "We're gonna be fine."


	3. Chapter 3

"Turn it, Daryl." He glanced at his brother and turned the stick he was holding.

"How do you make it stay on? Every time I do it, the meat falls off."

"Weave it on. You gotta get bones on both sides of the stick." Daryl nodded, and didn't notice his brother staring at him. Merle looked over the younger boy's arms, looking for any sign of their father's rage. Aside from the occasional scar or bruise from every day wear and tear, there was nothing. No handprints, no welts from their father's belt or cooking utensils. He was clear, and it made him feel a little better. "Daryl, I gotta tell you something." Daryl looked at him and Merle froze. Looking into the expectant eyes of his baby brother filled him with shame for what he had planned. "You know I care about you." Daryl nodded. "You know if anyone ever hurts you, they're dead." Another nod. "I don't get all pussy about emotions and whatnot but I wanted to make sure you know I give a shit about you."

"I know." Merle nodded and stayed silent for a minute before looking at him again.

"Does Dad ever hit you? Beat on you like he does when he's drunk and pissed off?" Daryl felt his heart jump into his throat. He'd already been warned by their father, that if he said anything, both boys would get it worse than they'd ever had it before. He remembered the careful aim of his father's hand, as he landed his strikes on Daryl's thighs- the only place he was sure nobody- including Merle- would see. Torn between obeying his father, or being honest with his brother, he shook his head, not wanting their father to go after both of them. "You need to tell me if he does. Don't lie and try to act tough." Daryl shook his head.

"I'm not. He doesn't." Merle nodded.

"Okay, then." It was settled and Merle felt a little disappointed. Part of him had hoped Daryl was being beaten so he'd have an excuse to stay. Protecting him would give him a reason to reconsider his plans, but if Daryl was safe, there really was no reason to stay.

"Why?" He snapped out of his daze and looked at him.

"Huh?" Daryl turned the stick he was holding.

"Why'd you ask?" Merle shook his head.

"It's done." He said, poking Daryl's dinner with his own. They took their food out of the flame and carefully began picking at it. Merle found himself getting slightly annoyed each time Daryl burned himself, but not upset enough to say anything. "You going to school?" Daryl nodded.

"Yeah but I don't want to."

"Nobody wants to but you got to. You gotta finish."

"You didn't." Merle shook his head.

"No, I didn't. You gonna do everything I do? Drop out cause I did?" Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "No, you're not."

"Why do I gotta keep going? It's boring and the other kids are assholes."

"The world's full of assholes, kid. You run from one bunch of 'em right into the arms of another. You gotta stay and beat them down so the next ones know not to fuck with you." Daryl nodded and licked his fingers. "You like any girls?" Daryl shook his head. "You're not a faggot, are you?"

"No. The girls here are gross."

"Beggars can't be choosers, Daryl. You gotta learn to settle sometimes. You're young now, but eventually you're gonna have to fuck_ someone_. You sit there waiting for Miss Right in a field full of flowers and sunshine and you're gonna be a virgin til the day you die."

"I'm not the one begging." Daryl snapped back. Merle smiled and laughed to himself, impressed by Daryl's comeback.

"Are they?" He asked. Daryl smiled to himself, embarrassed, and kept eating. They talked for a while longer before putting the fire out and getting in the tent Merle had stolen from a schoolmate's backyard years back. It didn't take long for Daryl to fall asleep, but Merle stared up at the ceiling of the tent until he thought the sun might come up soon, at which point he pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and put his blanket over Daryl before getting out of the tent as quietly as he could. Daryl didn't wake up for another four hours, and he thought nothing of his brother being gone. He always slept longer than Merle. It was the piece of paper on Merle's side of the tent that drew his attention, and he grabbed it, rubbing his eyes as he unfolded it.

daryl  
i knew if i told you i was leaving, youd throw a fit. truth is, your alot stronger then i am and i cant take it no more and now that i know he dont beat you, i know its safe for me to leave. youll be ok, he wont go after you like he has me. ill fucking kill him if i stay any more. remember all the things i told you and take care of yourself. we'll see each other again some day i promise. - merle

Daryl shook his head, breathing harder and trying to keep himself from crying.

"No... No no no... Please-" He jumped out of the tent, not paying attention to the cold air as he searched for his brother's dirtbike. It was gone. "Merle!" His voice echoed through the woods and he did the only thing he could think of doing- he ran. He followed the footprints left by Merle as he rolled his bike out far enough to not disturb Daryl as he slept. He stopped running only when he saw the footprints disappear and he looked for disturbances in the leaves covering the ground, but the wind was kicking up and covering any tracks his brother had left. His frustration kicked in and tears welled up. "Merle!" He looked around, listening for any sound that might lead him to his brother. "I lied! I lied, Merle! Please come back! He does- He hits me too!" He listened for a response, not caring that his brother would slap him around for lying. He wanted it. He wanted Merle to hear him and come back pissed off, then stay to protect him. "Merle!" He couldn't stop himself from crying. He looked back in the direction he came from and around again, backing up and wiping his nose on his bare arm before turning back. By the time he made it back to the tent, he was crying for a different reason and he took a stick and began beating the tent down with it, finding satisfaction in the sound of the pieces breaking. He sat for a few minutes after, collecting his thoughts before beginning to gather the pieces of the tent and rolling them up to fit in his backpack. Once he had it zipped, he slung it on his back and started on his way home, where he knew his father was waiting. He'd want an explanation about his missing son, and no matter what Daryl said, it would anger him. He'd go into a rage and now, with Merle gone, there'd be nobody there to take the beating but him.


	4. Chapter 4

Her neck tasted good, and he couldn't help but wonder how she made that happen. He always had trouble staying focused, and he was silently kicking himself for being so distracted at a time like this.

"It's kinda creepy out here." She said. He nodded, kissing her throat again before making his way back up to her lips. She smiled and he pulled back, staring down at her somewhat swollen mouth, proud of himself for the marks he'd already left on her. "You're a little bitey, aren't you?" She asked. He smiled. "Maybe we shouldn't keep going. You might wreck me." He kissed her again and dug his lower body into her, making her moan. "Zip it up." She said. He crawled over her and pulled on the zipper to the tent. At the same time, she unbuttoned his jeans and grabbed his butt, using her teeth on the zipper. He looked down, smiling at her, letting his guard down. The combination of the loud yell and the sudden grip someone had on his wrist made him yell out, which scared his date enough to make her scream. Daryl shoved the hand away and pushed the girl back away from the tent's entrance, putting his arms out to shield her. It wasn't until he heard his brother's familiar laugh that he relaxed. "Who the fuck is that?" The girl asked, shaking.

"Merle?" Daryl asked. He waited for a response, and got one when Merle poked his head in the tent's opening. Daryl let out a breath and closed his eyes.

"What the fuck is going on? Who are you?"

"Wow, she's a pretty one, Derlene, good job."

"Daryl?" She asked.

"My brother." Daryl stared at him, a mix of emotions going through him.

"Did I interrupt or are you two lovebirds done?"

"You interrupted." She said angrily.

"We're done." She looked at Daryl.

"Oh, we are?" She asked. He looked at her.

"I gotta talk to him. Can you just wait here and we can keep going in a few minutes?"

"The mood's dead, Daryl. The only thing happening in a few minutes is me either sleeping or leaving."

"Sleep, then. Just don't go. Please?" She stared at him, breaking eye contact only to glance at Merle, who stood outside the tent smoking.

"You have to?" She asked. "Like, absolutely no way around it have to talk to him?" He nodded.

"Please?" She looked away and he kissed her cheek before standing up and exiting the tent. Merle looked at her.

"Might wanna zip it so no monsters get in, sweetheart." He said, walking away. Daryl led him just far enough to where he was sure they wouldn't be heard before he turned to his brother.

"What?" He asked. Merle was taken aback.

"'What'? Is that how you say hi to your brother?" Daryl glared at him. "You seem to be doing alright for yourself. You wanna know what I've been up to?"

"No. I want to know why you're back."

"Because I felt like coming back, that's why." He spoke through gritted teeth, trying hard not to lash out at his little brother. "Not happy to see me, I can tell. Probably not the best time for me to pop in. I'm sorry for that." Daryl raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, you're sorry for that." He repeated.

"Yeah."

"That's what you're sorry for."

"That's what I said."

"Not anything else. Not a single fucking thing besides what you did five fucking minutes ago? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Watch yourself, boy-"

"Don't call me boy. I'm not your fucking boy."

"Jesus Christ. Had I known you were bleeding from your vagina, I'd've waited a week to come find you."

"Or maybe you should've just not come back at all." Daryl knew he was hurting his brother, and he was enjoying it. All the years of him being gone, and Daryl being left with nobody to protect him from their father had taken a toll and he'd grown bitter toward the one person he once idolized.

"What's going on?" Merle asked after a short pause. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah, my mom died and my brother left me with a fucking alcoholic piece of shit who isn't fit to own a god damned goldfish, that's what fucking happened."

"I had to."

"You fucking had to." Daryl shook his head. "Jesus Christ."

"What? You wanna hit me? I know you're fucking pissed off, so hit me. Get it out, Dar-" Merle's sentence was cut off by Daryl's fist slamming into his jaw. Merle staggered back, shocked at how hard Daryl had hit him. "Jesus-"

"Thanks, that felt good. Let me know when you're ready for another one, alright?" Merle touched his face and looked at him.

"Do it." Daryl swung again without hesitation and Merle took it, this time right below his eye. He didn't have time to recover before Daryl shoved him into a tree and punched him in the stomach. He didn't fight back, he just let his brother get it out, secretly feeling like he deserved it.

"Do you fucking know what he's like now? Do you know what you left me with?" He heard Daryl's voice crack and looked at him as the punches stopped. "He's just- He has to fucking blame everything on someone, and I'm the only one there. I'm the only fucking one and I get it all."

"I was going to kill him, Daryl."

"Well you still have a chance so fucking have at it." He began walking away and Merle grabbed his shoulder, which earned him another shove.

"Whoa. I didn't come here for this-"

"I don't give a shit what you came here for. You can't just disappear, leaving me in the fucking woods by myself-"

"Oh Jesus don't act like I stranded you in the middle of the fucking desert to live off sand and your own piss, Daryl. For fuck's sake-"

"It's the fucking purpose of the thing! Who does that shit? I was just a fucking kid-"

"You were never just a kid, Daryl. I didn't raise you to be some pussy Playskool truck driving sissy boy. I knew what you could handle-"

"Obviously you fucking didn't or you wouldn't have left!" Merle threw his hands up, at a loss for words. "Nothing to say?" Daryl asked.

"I'm sorry!" It seemed to shock Daryl. "I don't know what you want me to do or say. You want me to go take some classes and learn how to build a time machine, man? I can't do anything about it. I fucked up and I'm sorry. I came back to tell you that." Daryl seemed to be calming down, but he still paced around like he always seemed to when he was nervous or angry.

"Did your plans not work out?"

"Didn't have no plans. I just ran."

"Like a bitch." Merle nodded.

"Yeah. It was a bitch move and I'm sorry." He kept his eyes on Daryl, ready for him to charge at him again, but he didn't. They both stood there, neither of them talking for a couple minutes. "I'm staying with Scott for a while. If you want to talk, come by tomorrow sometime. You want me to fuck off, I will if I don't hear from you by Wednesday."

"What's on Wednesday?"

"Scott's moving to Texas. Figured I'd hitch a ride with him if there's nothing for me here." Daryl nodded. "Hope to hear from you." And with that, Merle walked away. Daryl watched him until he couldn't see him anymore, and then turned to head back to his tent. Half expecting it to be empty when he got there, he was shocked to see brown hair popping out from inside the sleeping bag he brought.

"Jenny?" She moaned, obviously barely awake, and he zipped the tent up behind himself. He took a minute to take his shoes off and tried to get in with her. She lifted her head and looked at him.

"Take your clothes off." He looked away.

"I gotta be honest, this whole situation just killed it for me, you know?"

"I didn't ask to sit on your face, Daryl, I'm asking you to get naked so its more comfortable under the covers." She pulled the sleeping bag back over her head and curled up again as he began stripping down. Once he was down to his underwear, he got into the sleeping bag with her. She turned to him and he felt her naked body press against his. Any other night, that would be all he needed to get going, but after the confrontation with his brother, his mind was as far from where it had been earlier as it possibly could've been. Even when she grabbed the hem of his boxers and pushed them down, kicking them off his legs with her own bare feet, he was focused on how warm and soft her skin was, and how comfortable he felt just lying there in the dead silence of the tent. He put his arm around her and she buried her face in his chest, falling asleep a little faster than he did, but he soon followed her lead, feeling strangely comforted that the brother he wanted to hate so much was back, and that he actually managed to apologize, which was something that was extremely rare in their family.


	5. Chapter 5

Aside from thinking about the sweat pooling between their hands, Daryl's mind was the same numb, blank wasteland it had been since that day he ran back to his burning home. Nobody had teased him. Nobody made any jokes about how his mother died. It was as if her death was off limits to the bullies he'd grown so used to. He stood now wearing the only dress shirt he owned, holding the hand of a girl he'd had a crush on for two years. Her name was Alice and she was a year older than him. One of the few people who was always nice to him, she asked if she could hold his hand while his father and brother helped carry the casket. All he could manage in response was a nod, and he pretended not to see the dirty looks she gave her boyfriend, who was only there for her. Daryl had never had a problem with him, aside from the fact that he took the only girl he'd ever wanted. Mostly, the kid's problems all stemmed from some feud he was in with Merle, who ignored him for his dead mother's sake. He tried not to cry, but the sight of the casket being lowered into the ground proved too much for him, and when he closed his eyes, her hand let go of his and she wrapped her arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer so his face was nearly buried in her chest.

"Ally." Daryl ignored her boyfriend's voice, focusing on trying to stop his tears. He felt humiliated crying not only in front of her, but on her.

"Not now, David."

"Dave I swear to god if you make a fucking scene I will kill you where you stand." Daryl opened his eyes at the sound of his brother's voice and lifted his head as Alice gave his shoulder a squeeze and approached her boyfriend, scolding him. Daryl glanced back at the grave, then at his brother who's face was mere inches from David's as they stood threatening each other, completely oblivious to the dozens of onlookers who looked disappointed and angry. He felt pressure in his head that seemed to be spreading throughout his body and his tears stopped. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked around as voices were raised. His eyes landed on a three foot long wooden stick that was being used to prop up a floral arrangement with his mother's name on the banner. He walked over, unnoticed by everyone else around him, and took the stick, causing the flowers to fall to the ground. What happened next would remain a blur whenever Daryl tried to remember it. A short blackout left him standing over David, punching him as hard as he could as a bloody stick lay next to him. It was Merle who pulled him off, and someone yelled for an ambulance. It wasn't fear of the trouble he'd be in or the emotions over his dead mother that sent him running. It was the look of fear and maybe even disgust in Alice's eyes as she glanced at him over her shoulder while she held David's bleeding head in her lap. He ran, and being as fast as he was, nobody could catch him. He stayed in the woods for nearly a week after that, ashamed of his behavior. The day of the funeral was the last day Alice was ever a his friend. A short explanation about how she thought he needed to get help for his anger issues, and how she had to stay away from him until he did was all he got. After that, not a single word, and it angered him so much to see her with David that he made it a point to not get help, just as, what he referred to as, "a fuck you" to his former friend.

Merle had found him four days after the funeral. Merle always found him, and he sat on the ground with a bottle of beer as if he hadn't just walked for an hour into the woods to find his baby brother. He offered his drink to Daryl, who took it. Despite hating the taste, he drank as much as he could before Merle took it away, longing for any form of numbness he could get.

"You ain't gonna get hit when you come back. He gets it." Daryl looked at him, his dirty face showed two clean streaks under his eyes where the tears had washed the dirt away. "Dave's a prick and everyone knows it. He shouldn't'a been there but he was and he stepped out of line. Dad actually seemed happy you'd done it."

"Don't fuck with me, Merle." Daryl said quietly, shaking his head.

"Not fuckin with you, kid. You need to come home. Have you eaten?" Daryl nodded. "Thirsty?" Again, he nodded. Merle stood up and looked around the woods silently, wondering to himself if he should say what he wanted to say. "Nobody blames you." Daryl stared at him. "You got her the cigarettes, didn't you?" Daryl felt as if he'd been punched in the chest. "She was sick in bed. Couldn't go nowhere. Dad don't share his and I didn't buy her any cause she couldn't breathe as it was. You're the only one who could've gotten 'em for her." The tears came instantly and Daryl turned his back to his brother, as if he could hide the loud sobs that came out of him. Merle grabbed his shoulders and squeezed tightly. "No one knew she was gonna pass out like that. She was drinking, alright? You tried to make her feel better and something fucked up happened. It just happened."

"If I didn't get them-"

"She'd have gotten them somehow, and it woulda happened anyway. You gonna sit in the woods for the rest of your life, making this about you?" He roughly turned Daryl to face him. "This ain't about you, asshole. She's gone and no amount of crying is gonna bring her back. Nothing gets undone with crying." Daryl looked away again. "And if you're worried about that little whore at the funeral-" Daryl shook his head.

"She's not a whore-"

"She's a dumb fucking bitch is what she is, and I see you eye fucking her like she has glittery rainbows coming from every hole in her body and it makes me sick. Girls like that don't go for guys like us, Daryl. You can treat her nicer than any guy's ever treated her, and in the end she's gonna run right back to rich pieces of shit like Dave because she's a fucking whore, and that's what whores go for. Money and pretty cars. You ain't giving her that, so she don't want you. She'll be nice and hold your hand, but someone's gotta fucking die for her to get that close to you."

"Okay." Merle frowned.

"Okay? Okay like you get it or okay as in shut the fuck up?"

"Shut the fuck up." Merle seemed taken aback. "It's done. You said it. I don't want to talk about it anymore." Merle stared down at him and eventually nodded.

"You wanna go home?" Daryl nodded and Merle did the same. He squeezed Daryl's shoulder one more time before walking away, knowing his little brother would follow as he always did.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the reviews/follows/favorites. I meant to say thank you sooner but for whatever reason, I haven't. It really means a lot that someone takes a little time to tell someone else that they enjoy what they've done, and it feels good to know that people actually stopped scrolling through titles and stopped on this one. So, thank you again. I hope I don't let you down with future chapters.**

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It wasn't so much that he hated him, but Merle had strong negative feelings toward his brother from the day he was born. From the second he laid eyes on that weird looking newborn face that all babies had when they just came out, he felt a mixture of annoyance and an increased hatred toward his father. Daryl wasn't the blessing his mother said he was, he was a burden. He felt sorry for the boy, knowing what he would be growing up in, and he couldn't help but be mad at his mother for deciding to have him, when she knew the environment he'd been born into.

"You wanna hold your brother, baby?" His mother asked. Merle shook his head. "Why not, you scared of hurting him? You won't."

"Maybe later, Mom." He said quietly. She nodded and continued staring at her new son. She sat in bed, wearing one of his dad's t-shirts and a pair of ratty looking shorts with hair dye smudges on them while his father was out in the living room watching Nascar on their old TV, which always had a staticy picture, no matter what channel it was on. "You need anything? I'm gonna head out."

"Where are you going?"

"Just out. Me and the guys might see a movie."

"You have money?" Merle shook his head.

"We ain't gonna pay for it, Mom." She pointed to her dresser.

"Grab that book I got there." He walked over, doing as he was told, and brought a thick book over to her, which she opened. Inside, she had two ten dollar bills. She took one and handed it to him.

"I don't need it, Ma-"

"You've been a big help, baby. Go have fun. Get food or something." He looked at the money before bending down and kissing her cheek. "I love you."

"Love you, too." He took the book back from her and discretely put the money she'd given him back into it before putting it back where he got it from.

1 Month Later

The screaming woke him up at least once a night, but it was the sound of his mother coughing that kept him awake. On this particular night, he'd had enough. Merle got out of bed angrily and stormed down the hall toward his parents room. Once at the door, he slowed down and quietly opened it. He kept his head down, glancing up only to see the crib, which he walked toward. He looked down at his screaming baby brother and grabbed the bottle on the dresser next to the bed, sticking it in the waistline of his pants before picking the baby up and taking him out of the room. He got back on his bed and took the bottle out, shoving it in the baby's mouth perhaps a little too roughly.

"I got shit to do tomorrow, kid, you gotta fucking sleep." He muttered. The baby slowly calmed down and began eating. "Not so hard, is it, Daryl? All you gotta do is stop whining and life suddenly gets a lot more pleasant, huh?" Daryl stared up at him, his eyes beginning to close already. "Good... Sleep, you little bastard." He turned and started to put his brother down on the bed next to him, which caused him to instantly start crying again. Daryl stopped as soon as Merle picked him back up. Merle tried again, with the same results. "Fucking kidding me." He mumbled angrily. He put the bottle down and laid back on his bed, with the baby screaming in his face. "Jesus I fucking get it!" He pulled Daryl onto his chest and began patting his back. "You gotta stop this, Daryl." He said, closing his eyes. He ran his fingers up and down Daryl's back, which seemed to stop the crying instantly. He continued doing it until he, himself, fell asleep. It was the first time since his brother came home from the hospital that he got more than five hours of sleep. It ended when he felt someone try to take Daryl off of him. He tightened his grip, waking his brother which started the crying again.

"Nice going, idiot." His dad said, a lit cigarette between his lips. Merle let go of the baby and his dad took him out of the room. He felt angry and he wasn't sure why. Daryl was an annoyance and he should've been happy that his father took him off his hands, but he wasn't. It was as if his dad had taken something that belonged to him, and it pissed him off. Trying not to dwell on the feelings, he got out of bed and went on with his daily activities, avoiding any thought of his currently crazy home life. After discovering that he had a talent for calming Daryl down, it became somewhat of a routine to take him from his parents room and bring him into his own to sleep. When his mother tried moving the crib next to Merle's bed, they discovered it wasn't the room Daryl liked, it was his brother, and the only way to almost instantly put him to sleep was for Merle to hold onto him, which is what he ended up doing more often than not.


End file.
